Appendix
The time, the place, the people, and all that...(names - language, magic, vocabulary, etc.)
For readers who are new to the Pleistocene, and for those who have visited other versions of the prehistoric past, I offer a few words of explanation and lame excuses. This is intended to give a frame of reference for a work of fiction, not to display any great depth of scholarship. Your humble author has a passion for anthropology, but no degree. What I do have is an obsession with details, a love of the prehistoric, and a fair amount of experience in foraging and stalking rabbits.
Also, this work is a fantasy. In stretching reality into a framework in which magic is real, it is perhaps not such a great sin to stretch a few other details to suit my taste. I hope it is to the reader's taste.
The time
Glaciers crept southward bringing the arctic with them many times in the Earth's long past. Twenty thousand years or so ago, they still held sway. People were in what we call the old stone age, or Paleolithic, stage of technological culture. They used tools of stone (flint was preferred), wood, and bone. The stone tools were merely chipped into shape, and not polished by friction like those of the soon-to-follow Neolithic cultures. Agriculture and animal husbandry also awaited the milder conditions following the final retreat of the ice. Otherwise, the people were essentially the same as us. Their beliefs were different, at least regarding names and causation, but their brains worked the same way--perhaps better than many now, they needed their smarts to stay alive. The Neandertals had vanished, as far as we know.
While there were no large settlements in the cold North, people did invest labor in the construction of solid dwellings. Travel in winter is hard and dangerous. Finding enough food could be uncertain, unless one followed a large herd constantly. People adapted by creating permanent winter camps where they could cache surplus food and fuel. They undoubtedly ranged far in the warm season in order to bring back extra food for the long winters. Hunting away from their winter camp also took the pressure off game in the vicinity, making winter hunts easier. Summer gatherings had to be held at different locations in order to allow the environment to recuperate.
Meat was a mainstay; it could be dried for storage, or kept in caches dug into permafrost in areas where the subsoil remained frozen. Root vegetables could be stored in pits too, but they keep even better dried. These were nothing like the huge and colorful carrots and turnips we know now, but they were nourishing. Fruits might be dried, and seeds of grass and trees kept well in storage. Women and children mostly gathered the vegetable foods, while men hunted. Men, women, and children cooperated in taking small animals, birds, and fish in nets.
Fire was Man's best friend. Artificial light came only from indoor hearths and small lamps that were merely shallow dishes of stone with a wick of twisted plant fiber stuck into a dab of animal fat. Cooking was done in a variety of ways. Meats roasted on spits over open fires or in covered pit ovens pre-heated by fire. Dropping heated stones into liquid was the most efficient way to boil water for tea or make soup. It is possible to keep liquid hot by suspending a rawhide pot over hot coals, but it is a poor way to bring it to a boil from a cold start. Fuel had to be used efficiently, especially in winter, in a land poor in trees.
Animal skins provided both clothing and shelter. Wool gathered when large animals shed their undercoats in spring could be spun and woven or matted into felt. Domestication of animals was rare yet, but relationships were forming between nomadic peoples and the migrating herds that they followed. Wolves scavenged the waste left by human hunters. Some would already have taken to a life partially dependent on this source. People would have distinguished between these "jagals" and those that followed a traditional lifestyle independent of humans. The commensalism had already progressed into partnership in some places, but The People only indulged sporadically in keeping tame creatures--at least until Radovin suggests some interesting possibilities at the end of Dancintg With Mammoths. (I would really like ke to write it - really!)
The place
Poland felt the impact of the Ice Age strongly. At times, most of it was covered by glaciers that left it both flattened and interestingly carved. Whenever the ice retreated far enough north, people inhabited the land and left their artifacts in the soil and caves. At the time of this story, life is hard but The People persist. Warsaw is flooded and the region north of it is uninhabitable. Only traders go that way very much, using the lake formed by the northward flowing rivers to get from one waterway to another in summer. There are overland trade routes to the south and east.
Evidence of trading over long distances exists in the form of seashells found with ancient artifacts far inland. "Man-root" is ginseng, or something closely related. Who knows how long it has been in use. Ayah-kayah.
The Krakow area is as much a center of culture as it will be thousands of years later, when a city grows there to be the original capitol of Poland. To the north, eroded outcrops of Jurassic limestone, sometimes hard to distinguish now from the ruins of castles built among them in the Middle Ages, stand watch over rolling hils and long, narrow, water-carved valleys. South of the great river, salt springs attract animals and men.
"Spirit Valley" is Ojcow ("Place of the Father," pronounced "oyts-oof"). It is the smallest of Poland's national parks, yet its strange rock formations, caves, and springs make it one of the most fascinating. The valley's sheltered microclimate harbors rare species of plants and animals. Even now, it is a destination for spiritual pilgrimages as well as picnics. The whole region suffers greatly from air and water pollution. The Spring of Love (Zródelka Milosci) still flows clear, but the water is unsafe to drink.
The people
The tribes have no foundation in historical reality. This is fantasy, after all. But their lifestyle is based, however loosely, on real models.
Many, if not all, pre-industrial ethnic groups have a name for themselves that translates roughly as "The People." The self-centeredness of individual humans is reflected in their culture. Just as each human perceives itself as the center of the Universe, their world is the world.
That is not to say that they are any more stupid and childlike than modern people whose outlook is shaped by the electronic media, who know only how to gather packaged foods, and take no thought for the consequences of their wasteful lifestyle.
Radovin's tribe of hunter-gatherers is constrained by their harsh environment to live in small groups. Each band is an extended family; perhaps not all related by blood, but sharing as a family would. Though leadership tends to be hereditary, the popular voice has great influence. Their system is somewhere between democracy in its purest form, and benevolent dictatorship. Now and then it loses its balance.
The People have a well developed technology based on natural materials that vary in quality and availability. Their education is mainly in practical matters of survival. Food and shelter are primary concerns. Children are not shunted away into a world of their own, isolated from most contact outside their own age-group. They learn from their parents and grandparents, not from underpaid professional educators and overpaid advertisers. Play is preparation for adult life. They help out with chores at home, and farther afield as they grow.
Although The People give good lip-service to the importance of women, their political outlook has a patriarchal bias. Yet while headmen are "more equal" than their mates, female shamans enjoy complete equality. Homosexuality carries no stigma. It is often a subject of jokes, but no more than any other aspect of life.
The Wa!ikerrima are an anomalous tribe that have only recently wandered into the area. Their unfamiliarity makes them suspect. They are not numerous, and may be assumed to have vanished without a trace through a combination of genocide, assimilation, and further migration.
The Reindeer People are highly nomadic and different in speech and customs, but they have "always" been there. Likewise the River Folk, whose role in global commerce (such as it is) is valued. Both tribes have blood-ties with The People from occasional intermarriage, and their interaction is mainly peaceful. They are merely mentioned here, but may have larger roles to play in sequels.
Not seen in A Drum Is Empty but introduced at the end of Dancing With Mammoths, the Horsemasters are an early extension of a specialized hunting lifestyle. Following herds of horses, they discovered the potential use of tamed animals and exploited it. Their use of horses and contempt of all who do not makes them a formidable enemy.
Games and stuff
In Chapter Eight, Rado is playing "flint-bone-hide" with Tookie. In case you haven't guessed, this is a prehistoric version of "scissors-rock-paper," which I do hope you have played somewhen or other. The rules are the same, but the technology is a little different: Flint (one finger) cuts hide, hide (open hand) wraps bone, bone (fist) chips flint.
"Scratch" is a complex numerically scored game, very popular because the only apparatus needed is a set of four small pebbles. As the name implies, it involves lines scratched into packed earth. The stones are tossed onto the pattern, and their position determines the score. There is one black pebble in each set, a sort of wild card that changes everything it touches. Don't ask me what the rules are, I have no idea.
Names and language
The People are not Polish; they are probably not even proto-Slavic. On occasion I use an existing word or word root--such as "Bogu" (God)--which has such a long history that it may very well have been on the tongues of the people who lived in that time and place. Names of major rivers tend to be passed along through the centuries with only minor changes too. With that in mind, I dubbed the Wisla (Vistula) the Veselta, and the Rudawa simply becomes the Red River.
The interrogative particle "ah" and various exclamations serve to give a touch of distinctive flavor to everyday speech. "Vahé" may be translated roughly as "(god) forbid!" It is always spoken with great feeling. I don't want to make the dialogue sound stilted and unnatural--except, of course, when the leaders are indulging in formal oratory. Bogu knows, politicians can carry on! As for the four-letter words, The People are merely human, after all. Some of them are going to be more foul-mouthed than others. They do not have the same attitude toward words for body parts and excretions that we do. It is the forbiddenness of certain words that gives them their power.
Honorific suffixes do not need explanation (I hope). They are added sparingly for flavor.
My system of naming is arbitrary, but consistent in its way, and aimed at making gender-recognition easy. Masculine names end in a consonant, feminine with an A or I.
The rules of syllabic stress are:
Masculine: accent on the first. (BO-dis-ar, BAZ-en-a-ber)
Feminine: accent on the next to last. (Te-VI-na, Sher-i-LA-na, Ha-LE-zi)
Pronunciation is otherwise left to the discretion of the reader. No one pays much attention to pronunciation guides anyway.
Shortened nicknames behave a little less logically, but that is natural. Men's nicks end in an O, unless they happen to use only one syllable. The women's retain the standard feminine endings. It is customary to base the nickname on the accented syllable of a name, but there are exceptions. This may be due to similarities in the names within a family that might otherwise cause confusion, or simply a childish quirk of pronunciation that sticks (Tookie). Hence, Sherilana is called "Sheri" instead of "Lana," while Jesumi is "Sumi" (and she would be likely to say "Sue me!").
And yes, Ivergan is an anagram of vinegar.
Magic, religion, and shamanism
I am somewhat uncomfortable applying the term "shaman" to the loosely organized magical priesthood of The People. Their traditions and practices are not those of the Siberian shamans, though similar in many respects. However, it comes close and saves a lot of words. Nitpickers will bletch about it whatever I do. I would feel more embarrassed using awkward phrases like "One Who is Dedicated" at every turn. Making up words does not serve well either.
Much of the everyday magic of the Dedicated is mere mumbo-jumbo and very sincere acting, and of course they know that. People are impressed and their belief helps glue society together. Empirical medicine does most of the healing work. Placebo effect has a lot to do with the cures as well as the curses. Psychology is a very potent "magic," whether applied consciously or unconsiously.
Real magic can be hard to tell from coincidence at times, yet it is there. Radovin is not only a genius (and unaware of it), but a magical idiot-savant. Magic is in his blood--and Ottavar's.
Religion is left mostly in the background because the plot has little use for it, touching only its fringes. Like other things that permeate life, it can go without saying. The People do not have much of a fixed canon, and what there is, is full of ambiguity and contradiction--the usual mess, in other words. All spirits are considered to come from one Source, but the smaller the division the easier it is to grasp.
Guide or totem spirits are the most approachable and have the most immediate impact. They are the heroes of legend, like Brer Rabbit and the animals in faery tales. Each band has a traditional totem, an archetypal beast that acts as a guiding force for the group as a whole and a special representative in the Spirit World.
Shamans are chosen by their guides, which might or might not be their band's totem. They take the form of their guide when traveling in spirit form. A few learn multi-shape-shifting capabilities, generally taking the forms of animals that are closely compatible--Raven gets along well with Wolf, for instance.
Counting and age
The People do not use zero. When adding up the years of a persons age, they count the first year, that of birth, as one. After the first birthday, a child is said to be seeing his or her second summer, while we would say that he or she is one year old. This can lead to a lot of "fence-post errors" when modern minds try to interpret the numbers. Sorry, but that's how it is.
Rudimentary mathematical calculations are performed on the fingers. Children learn how to count and manipulate numbers through rhymes and games. Hunters like to be able to communicate the size of a herd--"Oh, there's at least six hands of fat cows...." Shamans have the most extensive mathematical knowledge, since they are responsible for keeping track of important dates. They must watch the positions of Sun, Moon and Stars. Though they have no notion of why the seasons change, they have generations of observation of the great cycles to base their calendar on.
There are no standards of measurement of time and space beyond body parts and comparison with common activities. Ask someone how far away a certain place is, and you will be told that you might get there in the time it takes to boil water, or "in one run," meaning as far as the average hunter can go at a steady pace without rest--never mind hils and such. Longer distances are expressed in days of travel. Day and night are variable, you would be laughed at if you suggested using a fixed standard of hours.
Numbers are rich in symbolism.
1. One is the loneliest number. It is a goal, but not a good place to be, for human beings.
2. Two is ambiguous. It is a wedded couple, but they are childless. Therefore, it may be unlucky.
3. Three is powerful and lucky.
4. Four is the number of the Earth, its four directions and the four elements that make up all things.
5. There are five digits on a human hand. Spirit is the fifth element. Five is the number of Life.
6. Six is a comfortable number, a hand filled with something good.
7. Seven is the coupling of three and four, dynamic yet stable, power contained and directed.
8. Eight is four in full strength, a powerful number of protection. A circle of protective charms, such as the one surrounding the Bull band's burnt-out tent, is laid out four plus four, the four quarters first and then the midpoints.
9. Nine is the dark before dawn, the odd brother of two. It also has the power of three tripled, and that of seven and two--or four and five--combined. It may be dangerous; anything with this much power is dangrous.
10. Ten shares some of the ambiguous qualities of two. Two hands are a sign of constructive activity and control, but also of choice and decision. It is a fortunate number for leaders.
11. Eleven is notable as one over two hands, a new beginning (but therefore uncertain). At eleven summers, boys begin their approach to manhood and may be allowed to hunt with the men if they are ready. Girls start to learn from their mothers about womanhood, so that they will be prepared for the coming changes.
12... Twelve is getting a bit far out for most people. Shamans are familiar with it, and more, because they count the moon's and sun's journeys. Shamans and headmen can count the members of their bands and usually know their ages (woh! rocket science!).
Thirteen is ten-plus-three, the full count of moons, completeness and continuity, yet hard to grasp.
Are we confused yet? It gets worse. The symbolic value of a number has more weight than its numeric value in a game of scratch...uh, let's quit while we're ahead.
Vocabulary And Bestiary
Amada, maduana, etc.: One must show a little respect to women of high status. "Madam" or "M'lady" would sound out of place in the Pleistocene, so I had to do something. "Grandmother" has more depth of meaning than in modern times, but does not cover all nuances of rank and betokens more intimacy in one's relationship with the person addressed. Radovin can call Halezi "grandmother" because he is an initiate, and she is not only related to him but very much on his side. He does not use the term with Balekara because he is in her domain--her "office," if you like, where she outranks all others. He might, if they were just having a cuppa tea together, but definitely not if it was the first time.
Aurochs: Bos primigenius, Urus. The ancestor of modern domestic cattle, a fearsome beast, much larger than its descendants and with the attitude of a Spanish fighting bull. The last living specimen was killed in Poland in the seventeenth century. It is necessary to use the word because "cow" and "bull" may refer to bison as well. The aurochs and the European bison, or wisent (w pronounced as v), coexisted but occupied slightly different ecological niches.
You may find the European bison referred to as an aurochs, and the word is so defined in some old dictionaries. That just goes to show that dictionary makers (and many other folks) don't care a toot-berry about a lot of things. The American bison is not a buffalo, either, BTW.
Awida: Wa!ikerrima for "beloved", or "darling", or something like that. Accent on the first syllable. Say it and watch Ottavar go all over mooshy.
Ayah-kayah: A facetious "amen", "yeah, right", or "whatever" in its one-liner sense. Some people objected strongly and offensively to my use of "modern slang", so I made up something to substitute for that one lousy little word that expresses exactly what Radovin wants to say sometimes. Some people will object strongly and offensively to that. May bad spirits infest the lodges of both. Ayah-kayah!
Greatbuck: The giant deer, Megaloceros giganteus, also known as the Irish Elk, survived into early historic times. Lovaduc could have slept in a hammock hung in the antlers of a mature stag. I'm not saying he'd have been comfortable....
Hoosh: "Hush!" is the obvious meaning, but it is used at two extremes. One is dominating, parental--"Be still!"; the other, jocular, as we might say, "Oh, go on with you!" A plain "Shh!" fits somewhere in between. Just thought I should make that clear. I hope.
Hucha: It seems an obvious choice as a word for a crude homebrew--think "hooch." Every band has its own traditional recipe. Starchy seeds and roots provide the base for naturally occurring yeasts. Saliva helps to break down the starch into fermentable sugars. Luck, weather, the state of the Moon, and respect for the Good Spirits determine the quality of the final product. It is cloudy, full of particles, and would revolt a modern beer lover. Hacaben's "berry juice shit" is closer to wine, but hardly the standardized product we know now--and it's lucky if it ages a month without getting drunk up or going sour. A partially soured hucha is good for marinating meat.
Hamster: Not the cute little furball sold in pet shops, but a larger relative, big enough to make a meal and a mitten out of.
Jagal: A wolf that hangs around human encampments, even establishing breeding dens nearby. Used as a pejorative term, because jagals are scavengers. I made up the word to distinguish the habitual camp followers from normal wolves.
Jagals are tolerated--even encouraged--because they help to keep other scavengers away and eat a lot of small pests. They can be pests themselves when there is meat being processed, and stored food must be well protected. Eventually they evolve into dogs. They are already well on the way, but their full descent into doghood probably has to wait for the beginning of agriculture and the true domestication of grazing animals.
Midden: Waste dump, where anything inedible, broken, or worn out ends up. Heaven for archaeologists.
Midden-rat: (See Wall-rat.) Rodent that hangs around garbage dumps.
Parsnip: For those who do not know this admirable vegetable, the parsnip (Pastinaca sativa) is a large, long-rooted relative of the carrot. Its origins are very obscure, and it may not have existed in Ice Age Poland...but then again I have as yet no proof to the contrary, and at least it is in the correct hemisphere (wink). Anyway, I like parsnips. The root is sweet, and has a mildly spicy flavor. While cooking, it smells a tad overmuch. It cooks quickly and becomes very soft, hence a good metaphor for shaky legs.
Patuka: vomit, any yucky egested substance.
Pulling ears: kiding, teasing.
Sling: A simple weapon consisting of a narrow strap or thong with a wider, cupped area (rather like a small hammock) in the middle. A loop on one end goes over a finger or two for a solid grip. One places a stone in the cup, holds the loopless end between thumb and fingers, gives it a whirl and then releases it at just the right moment. That's the tricky part.
A sling may also be woven from string or yarn.
Spear-thrower, or atlatl: A stick with a hook at one end--a rigid extension of one's arm for casting spears. It was one of the greatest inventions of all time. Simpler than the bow, it makes it possible to throw a light spear with greater force for a much longer distance, an advantage in hunting large animals.
Toot-berry is slang for a fart, or any food that might engender a lot of gas. You never would have figured that out, ah?
Wall-rat: A rodent that adapted handily to the human custom of building permanent shelters and storing food. Ancestor of the common or Norway rat, perhaps (again, awaiting agricultural development for its full evolution). Roof-rats may be included in this catch-all term for anything that takes up residence in a lodge. Rodents love to gnaw (noisily) on bones, and would probably have invaded ice age lodges based on mammoth bone. Of course one can't tell now whether gnaw-marks were made on bones before, during, or after their use in construction.
Et Cetera
The great sickness can be assumed to have been some kind of flu. Our word influenza comes from the Spanish, "la influenza", meaning "the influence". It struck erratically, perhaps because of some deficiency in the winter diet suffered more by some bands than others, and/or with migrating birds as a carrier. At any rate, it was an act of God(dess). Ivergan was innocent, in this case.
Grandfather of Ottavar and father of Radovin, the deceased shaman continues to meddle in the affairs of his descendants. His origins and his status among the greater spirits remain shrouded in mystery for now. Suffice it to say that he knows more about the future than he should, and if his name sounds suspiciously like "coyote," there may be a good reason for it.
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